The Guest House


The Guest House
By Pat Kipp O’Neil

The best, yet most difficult guest I’ve welcomed into my house this year,
has been my acknowledgment of “what is”; “it is what it is”: fact, reality.

When I am down, depressed, sad or grieving, I am able to be with them.
It’s not that I don’t feel them. I do, sometimes with excruciating
emotional pain. The gift is that I’ve learned to let them be, to let them
in vs. burying them or letting them turn into resentment. I breathe deeply
and recognize them for what they are—a part of my life as it is.

I’ve relinquished the melodrama around these feelings, having them
be more than they are. I no longer dwell on them, and in that, they pass.
I can say “Hello—it’s you again and now it’s time for you to leave. I’ll
see you next time around”.

I have detached from needing their drama, the narcissism of making
them more than they are—simply visitors.

I experience them deeply, I sob; then recognize “they are what they are”.
There is freedom for me in this detachment.

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